


Burnt Light

by orphan_account



Series: The Messes We Make [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Belly Rubs, Butt Plugs, Contstipation, Dom/sub Undertones, Farting, Feeding, Food Kink, Holding, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Scat, Shit, Shit Eating, Voyeurism, enema
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Clark take things further in their sexual exploration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter includes an enema, shitting and farting. Do not read unless you like that sort of thing.

When they got back to the manor everything was at it should be. There was nothing on fire, no walls crumbling to their foundations, in fact it was a little too pristine and when Bruce entered with Clark he narrowed his eyes at Tim who was currently cleaning the floors. Alfred was dusting the paintings and smiled at Bruce as he stepped inside. “Ah Master Bruce, I trust you had a pleasant weekend.” Bruce nodded and gave a small glance at Tim who was still mopping the floor, when Bruce looked back at Alfred he gave a small rise and fall of his shoulders. Bruce raised his eyebrows.

“Yes it was fine Alfred, everything okay here?” He directed the latter part at Tim who was only now looking up towards Bruce. He gave a smile, small and quick before going back to scrubbing. “Did Tim break a vase?” 

Alfred gave a small laugh. “No Master Bruce, he just decided to help me clean the manor this weekend in preparation for your return.” Alfred put down the duster. “Now that you are back, i'll go to the shops and buy food for dinner. Would you like me to prepare anything especially?” Bruce thought for a moment.

“Yes actually. I’ll write you a list… Clark take our things to my room.” Bruce left toward the kitchen with Alfred in tow, leaving Clark to carry up everything, he did as he was told but not before sending Tim a questioning look, and a shy smile.

The room had be given a very thorough seeing to over the weekend. The sheets were ironed and everything was in its proper place. Clark emptied the suitcases into the washing hamper taking exceptional care to make sure his ‘special’ items did not get mixed in. No, those he stashed in a special case underneath Bruce's bed. One which only he and Bruce knew the combination for. By the time everything was sorted out Bruce was entering the room. “Okay, Alfred’s cooking a roast tonight.” Clark could feel his stomach already growling. Bruce smirked at him. “I told him to prepare a few extra dishes.” Bruce came up close to him and wrapped his arms around Clark's midsection. “The only problem is whilst delicious they tend to make me very gassy." Clark gulped and he gave a ‘yeah?’ under his breath. Bruce chuckled before he kissed Clark chastely on the lips. “I hope your ready Kent, I don't think you're quite aware of what's coming your way.” Clark tried to lean back in and kiss but Bruce stopped him with his finger. “Uh uh uh. That comes later. But first I have to use the bathroom.” He walked past Clark towards his en suite. When he got there, Bruce turned around and stood by the bathroom door as if he was waiting for something, for a moment he stood and after a while he gave an exasperated sigh and looked pointedly at Clark. He got the message and hurried in after him. “Whilst I love your mother’s cooking those waffles have really gotten to me…” He pulled down his pants and sat on the toilet , Clark stood by the door before Bruce pointed to the spot by his feet, Clark then moved in and sat by the bowl. Bruce pushed and gave a fart and Clark pressed his face closer, Bruce stroked his hair as he sat. 

They were there for 10 minutes, over the course of which Bruce got increasingly annoyed. He would take a minute to strain but then he would fall back into the seat breathing heavily as the only thing he managed to give off was a fart. He ripped off his shirt when he felt his body overheating. “God dammit… Why am I- I have been eating- Fuck.” He was muttering to himself and eventually a small piece broke off from Bruce but he wasn't happy. “10 minutes of pushing and I get that?” He had opened his thigh apart and peered into the water. Clark looked in as well. “What do you and your mother put in your waffles? Seriously.” Bruce was frowning at him, his face flushed Clark rested his head on his knee. 

“You know if you're really struggling, I have an idea of what may help.” Bruce eyed him suspiciously.

“I am not taking laxatives Clark. My previous experience with them isn’t exactly pleasant.” 

Clark sat up slightly. “No, it ain't that... I was thinking of-” He looked in between Bruce's legs. “An enema.” Bruce looked sullen, fidgeting on the seat. Eventually however he seemed to consider it.

“I guess it would make more sense. I’ll get dressed and we can go to the pharmacy and get what we need-” Clark was gone for a moment and returned holding a bag and hose and Bruce afforded him nod. “Of course you already own one…” Whilst his voice was flat Clark could see the small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “So what do I do?”

Clark used Bruce to get up, putting his hand on his thigh and using it as support. “You just sit tight I'm gonna sort everything out.” Bruce nodded and Clark moved around the bathroom preparing everything. He could hear Bruce giving a few more half hearted pushes, which only brought about some small airy farts. Clark filled up the bag with water and lubed up the nozzle at the end of the long tube coming off of it, before beckoning Bruce into the bath. “This could get messy if you're not used to the feeling, have you had an enema before?” Bruce shook his head. “Okay, so probably best we do this in the bath.” Bruce climbed in and smirked. 

“You seem to know a lot about these Doctor Kent.” Clark flushed.

As he put the bag on one of the hooks along the side of wall by the bathtub he cleared his throat. “I may have read a few articles about them… Purely for journalistic reasons.” 

Bruce nodded, looking at Clark solemnly. “Of course.” Clark pushed a lubed finger into Bruce who tried to pull away. He groaned at the fullness as Clark made sure he was properly lubed up and stretched.

“Okay, I’m gonna push the nozzle in now. Then it will start filling you up with water, and then you're gonna need to hold it okay.” Bruce gave a shaky nod. “The longer you hold it in for the better. They recommend 10 to 15 minutes, but if you really can’t hold it you can go after 5.” Bruce took a breath to steady himself and Clark brought the nozzle over and pushed into Bruce's ass. As soon as it entered gravity forced the water out of the nozzle and into Bruce's colon, he could feel Bruce's body protesting at the added volume and see his face contorting into varying grimaces as he was filled.

A strangled groan and Bruce was trying to push Clark’s hand away, Clark told him he still had a bit more to go and Bruce fell back into the tub. “I’m so full, fuck Clark, I can't-” A pant. “It’s gonna come out, you're gonna pull away and-” Clark rubbed gentle circles onto Bruce's protruding tummy as he writhed under him. 

Once the bag was empty Clark pinched the tube with his fingers and kept the nozzle in Bruce. He knew Bruce wasn't lying. If he removed the tube and relied on Bruce's ass muscles to hold in the fluid he would be covered in water in seconds. He bit his lip at the idea but shook his head. He needed to wait. For Bruce's sake. 

Each minute ticked by, eventually Bruce seemed to get used to the feeling, moving from side to side and feeling how his full intensities seemed to roll within him. He gave experimental pushes but Clark was there holding the tube in and Bruce kept asking how much time had gone past. They had hit the 5 minute mark, but Bruce didn't want to do this and only get half the shit out. He tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, but the bath tubs cool hard plastic on his back wasn't helping. He let his hands touch his stomach and Clark's hands stilled. He gave his own tummy a few rubs and felt how tight the skin there was. Like it was a balloon and not his own body. He pressed down on it but the muscles there didn't give. 

“10 minutes Bruce, you can go now if you want.” Bruce nodded, but then stayed as he was. He was marveling at the sensation. The fullness. It was less unpleasant now. If he stayed still he could feel how his body had to configure itself to deal with the added volume. Clark, seeming to sense Bruce's fascination ran a hand over Bruce's cock. 

He was half hard already, Clark’s soothing rubs and his own fullness making him in need of a hard fuck. “You look so good Bruce, so full and pretty.” Bruce’s face was red and sweaty as Clark kept grazing his cock with his hand, never gripping or giving him any friction, just gentle caresses. Bruce himself used his hands to rub his stomach.

“Clark…” He said in a breath and Clark smirked and reached for the small bottle of lube which laid by Bruce’s body and squeezed a small amount onto his hand. He wrapped it around Bruce’s cock and started to give gentle squeezes and he worked. Bruce panted as his body was overtaken by the feeling He felt so full. The pressure in his ass and the feeling of Clark on his cock was too much as soon he came. Clark kept his touches gentle going back to rubbing Bruce’s stomach as Bruce got his breathing back to normal. He could feel his stomach cramping and when the 15 minute mark hit he reached for Clark, he tried to sit up but his protruding belly prevented him from bending. Clark moved beside Bruce's body and pulled him into his arms and carried him past his western toilet to the squat one located behind a partition in his bathroom, Bruce didn't mention as he squatted awkwardly over the toilet. He was naked bar the nozzle dangling like a tail out of his ass, he arched his back and felt his abdomen strain. “You ready?” Clark asked breathily, Bruce nodded and when the nozzle was eased out Bruce could hear the cascade of liquid that left him in an instant. He looked down into the bowl and saw the brown river beneath, dotted with chunks of shit. He pressed a little harder.

A fart sounded from Bruce's ass and he could feel the shit sputtering out of him as a result. Clark was still next to him rubbing his tummy as he shit. The initial runoff of liquid had ended and he was getting to more solid shit and when he pushed he could feel it moving slowly through him. He grunted and Clark moved behind him, watching his asshole open to let out the turd out. Bruce gave a firm push and it plopped out into the river below, splattering the liquid out on onto Bruce’s calves. Clark reached for a bit of toilet paper and wiped at the small brown speckles. Bruce moved around to get keep his legs from falling asleep. 

He kept going, occasionally looking back at Clark who seemed to be trying to refrain from touching himself, Bruce huffed a laugh. “Clark I think my ass needs a good cleaning.” Clark rushed toward him, placing his knees on either side of the bowl and Bruce stood and pushed his ass out to give Clark better access to his hole. He started to lick, and clean. 

The pressing on his asshole and Clark's hand which were pressing on his stomach forced a particularly potent bout of gas to explode from him. A flurry of shit came suddenly following it and Bruce couldn’t hold back. “Fuck…” He pushed harder and he didn't feel Clark move away. “Sorry Clark I didn't think there was any left-” That was a slight lie, he could still feel a heaviness by his asshole but he thought it was only a little not the seemingly endless torrent flowing from him. Clark made a moan and kept lapping at Bruce's hole. 

Clark kept licking, getting Bruce’s hole clean before more shit would erupt meaning Clark had to start all over. Once he was done and all Bruce managed when he pushed was a small fart he let go. Bruce stretched and saw Clark's appearance. “Uh, you're going to have to do your own washing i’m afraid. I'm not giving that to Alfred.” Bruce said as he eyed the brown stained shirt. Clark looked down on it and shrugged. 

“Eh I don't mind, it was worth it.” He winked at Bruce who in turn pressed the flush on the squat toilet, water came and washed it away and Bruce stood back up. “It’s a good thing I had one of these installed, huh?” Clark looked down on it as well.

“I'll say, I don't mind where you go Bruce but I like it when I can see it properly. With those sit toilets I have to crane my neck to see anything and even then the lighting's bad.” Bruce smirked.

“Oh? Well I guess I’ll have to figure something out won't I?” Bruce moved out of the bathroom to get dressed and Clark took this time to head back to Metropolis and changed into a new shirt and flew back. When he returned Bruce had put on a new shirt. “I feel a lot better now. Thank you Doctor Kent.” Bruce kissed Clark on the cheek before going back to button his shirt. 

Clark bit his lip. “Anything for you Mister Wayne.” He came close and pressed his body against Bruce. He pressed his cloth clad erection against Bruce as he hugged him and Bruce gave a laugh.

“Later Kent.”

So he waited. Bruce went about his day as he usually did, checking his work emails, conducting a few interviews and meetings though his computer and phone. After a quick lunch Bruce decided to spend his afternoon sparring and training. Tim declined saying he was busy, and Dick was back in Bludhaven. Jason and Damian came down to the gym to train as well, but after a while Jason got bored and Damian became agitated from failing a particular move a few times over. Leaving Bruce on his own. 

Clark came down when Alfred told him dinner was ready and grabbed Bruce from the gym which he seemed to set up camp in, having his towel, drink and shirt strewn about the mat flooring. He had pulled out a train dummy and was currently vaulting over and punching hard on the base of the neck. Clark smiled at him fondly as he jumped and fought, he called his attention and they made their way upstairs. Jason, Damian and Tim were already up there, grabbing their favorite bits of the chicken. Damian hit Jason’s hand as he tried to take the breast, to which Jason shrugged and just pulled off a leg. When Bruce sat he piled his plate high with food and started eating. 

Whilst Clark liked to see Bruce eat he preferred to do it when they were alone. With the boys around him Clark had to try and focus on his plate rather than gawping at Bruce as he ate. In a way he couldn't help but be drawn to him, his eyes drifting towards him. The way his jaw worked to chew on a bite, how his expression flickered depending on what bite of food was currently in his mouth, those moments where he would stop eating dab his mouth with a napkin and pull his attention toward what one of the boys was saying. For Clark it was tantalizing to watch and he could feel the pleasant burn of his arousal as they ate.

They all chatted as they ate. Damian mentioned going to the museum with Dick that weekend. Jason said how he didn't kill as many drug lords as he usually did and Bruce just had to sigh and ignore the comment. Jason being back in the family was largely due to his relationship with Dick, and whilst Bruce had a rather biased view on it, he hadn’t outright banned the two from being together. Perhaps it was because he thought that Dick would be a positive influence on Jason, or maybe it was that he was finally seeing his boys happy for the first time in a long time. What ever the reasoning, Bruce accepted it. 

Bruce wasn't lying when he said there would be a lot of food. Along with the two roast chickens there was potatoes, carrots, Yorkshire pudding, cauliflower, cabbage, and that was just mentioning a few. Bruce ate from all of them, and Clark did much the same, though he ate three times the quantity. He saw Jason look mildly impressed as he managed to finish off his fourth plate of food.

After the main course Alfred brought in coffee and all members around the table took a cup, aside from Jason who Alfred had prepared a cup of hot chocolate for. Of course none other than Clark, who could smell the sweet chocolatey notes emanating from the cup knew that, and Jason’s ego was spared. After Jason downed his cup he heaved a sigh and stood. “Alright, I'm gonna go on patrol.” He turned towards Bruce who was sitting at the head of the table, sipping his coffee and nibbling on one of the biscuits Alfred had brought in with it. “You coming out tonight?” Bruce shook his head, and Jason shrugged and turned his attention to Damian and Tim. “You guys wanna come?” Damian seemed to jolt in his seat and he looked toward Bruce with hopeful eyes, whilst Tim just shook his head at Jason’s enquiring look.

“You can go, but don't do anything illegal.” Damian grinned and he and Jason left the room leaving just Tim who seemed to be getting ready to leave himself. 

He got up from his chair. “I better head back to my place, I have some tests I need to study for. Bye Bruce, bye Clark.” He left also and Clark turned his full attention to Bruce who had finished his coffee and sat back and looked down at his stomach.

Alfred came and cleaned away the plates and Clark helped him wash the dishes and put food that wasn't eaten in the fridge. Normally Clark would have finished it all off, but he knew Alfred liked to use leftovers in other meals and Clark didn't want to incur the wrath of the Englishman. When he got back to the dining room Bruce was still sitting and Clark could hear the gurgling coming from his stomach. “I think I ate too much.” Bruce got up and seemed to be adjusting to this new displacement of weight, his stomach was protruding slightly and Clark looked at it longingly. Bruce walked from the room and went to his bedroom and Clark followed dutifully after.

Despite Bruce's vow to protect the city he did take nights off. Usually when he could have Jason or Dick going on his patrols for him. It started off with Dick and Alfred and pretty much anyone invested in the health of Bruce saying it wasn't healthy to go out every night, of every month, so eventually Bruce conceded and now it became more of a routine thing. When he did take nights off he usually spent the time with Clark but occasionally if Clark was busy he would train or read or spend some time with his boys. As his boys were all busy and Clark was currently next to him rubbing his belly he knew who he was going to be spending this evening with. 

He read for about an hour before the rumbling from his stomach increase in volume and frequency. The pressure in his bowels had grown considerably and whilst he could feel it there bubbling and moving around, it wasn't up against his asshole yet and the few experimental pushes Bruce gave yielded nothing. Clark seemed to be sensing Bruce's predicament and tried to undo his pants for him. Bruce put down his book to watched Clark as he meticulously undid the belt and pulled the zipper down. He then eased the pants down and then the underwear leaving Bruce's ass exposed. As Clark lifted Bruce's lower half so that his asshole was directly under his face, the change in position caused his guts to cramp. Bruce ripped the loudest fart he'd ever given off directly into Clark's waiting nose. It wasn't even just one, as a whole batch seemed to explode from Bruce as he pushed down harder. Clark breathed in deep as he did so and when Bruce wasn't farting Clark nuzzled his nose into his wrinkled hole.

The gas was intense. He’d experienced bad gas before, but never in his volume. Each one that left him seemed louder and more explosive than the last and at one point he had to take a break and relax as Clark teased his hole. Small farts bubbled out of him, but it was from Clark’s nose pushing his hole open and letting the gas out. Bruce's erection grew as Clark brought his finger and tongue into play and eventually he was panting and asking Clark for more. 

When Clark pushed his finger in deeper, Bruce could feel his bowels growling. Clark pushed his finger in, and out, and when his finger was fully removed Bruce bared down to let his pent up gas out. He moaned loudly when a particularly painful gas bubble in him finally burst, but the smell was so noxious Bruce coughed at it. ”Jesus Clark, how do you like the smell?” Clark looked down at Bruce mid lick.

He shrugged. “I dunno Bruce, I dunno why I like any of the stuff I do. I just do.” He paused his fingering, just letting his finger run around his rim. “Maybe it's because-” Clark bit his lip and shook his head, giving a barely audible ‘never mind’ before dipping his finger back into Bruce.

Bruce tried to remember to ask Clark about it later, but in that moment he was absorbed by the feel of Clark’s talented fingers plundering his hole. When he couldn't take anymore, Bruce wiggled out of Clark’s grip and got on his knees on the bed, the new angle meant his ass kept ripping short farts and Clark worked more fingers into him. 

Eventually Clark pushed his lubed up cock in, slow and torturous, and the pressure in Bruce's guts was left to fester. Clark was big, and Bruce’s hole was so stretched that not even the tiniest bit of gas could get through. Clark seemed to know this and thrust shallowly, only pulling out slightly before slamming back in. Bruce groaned as a fart with no option to escape cramped his midsection. Clark reached down and stroked his leaking dick and Bruce’s groans of pain became ones of pleasure.

He felt it when Clark came, splattering his insides and instead of continuing his thrusts into Bruce, he stopped his thrusts and kept working Bruce's dick. Bruce was past being coherent and all that left him were annoyed grumbles interlaced with needy whines. As he felt his orgasm approaching Clark pulled out suddenly. 

He farted. Hard. As Clark's dick was pulled away all of the trapped gas seemed to burst from him, and gave off a tuba like sound. He would be loathed to admit that when he did his dick spurted with cum. He moaned loudly into the pillow as his ass gave a few more squirting farts before eventually dwindling down.

Clark stayed as he farted rubbing circles into the small of Bruce's back. When Bruce could feel his legs falling asleep he rolled over. “Get here now.” His arms were stretched towards Clark, making grabby hands. Clark chuckled before falling down next to Bruce and holding him into his arms. “I think dinner was a success don’t you agree?”

Clark nodded. “Though it was hard not to just jerk myself whilst you ate.” Bruce hummed in agreement. “You’re so hot when you eat….” He said quietly.

“It would have certainly made an impression on the boys.” Bruce voiced, before snuggling into Clark. “But if you’re willing we could always eat at your place if you wanted to get the full experience.” 

He gulped. “What would the full experience entail.” 

Bruce yawned. “Well, I would be naked. You could touch me whilst I ate, which is good. And you could be my lowly servant and fed me.” Clark felt his dick throb at the idea.

“That would be-” Clark sweated at the idea. “That would be great.” Bruce nodded.

“But before that, I have something else planned. Which I think you’re going to like.” Clark couldn't help the swell of anticipation that consumed him, but he tried to calm himself as he felt Bruce fall asleep.

Eventually, sleep took him too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce shows Clark something which he thinks Clark is going to enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains scat, farting, shit eating... My usual really.

When they woke up the next morning, Bruce got up and ready for work. Clark laid in bed watching him, and as the morning progressed he noticed that Bruce hadn’t gone to the bathroom aside for quickly brushing his teeth. Clark didn’t comment and he himself got ready for the day.

Whilst he was at the Daily Planet, his day was filled with running errands and writings stories. He kept an ear out for Bruce and noticed he still hadn’t used the bathroom, but his farts were sounding wet, a sign he needed to go. He sent a text to Bruce asking if he was okay, and he got a response a few minutes later.

‘You perv.’

Clark blushed and slammed his phone on his desk causing it to shake. He gave an indignant pout and tried to ignore Bruce as best he could, only letting his heart beat into his mind. But then he heard the telltale sound of another sodden fart and he bit his lip. Another text. ‘Did you hear that?’

Clark didn't reply for a while, continuing to write, but Bruce seemed to not want to take silence for an answer as he gave off more bouts of gas, until Clark had no choice to text back. ‘yes, i hear you.’ There was silence in his head, only the quiet thrum of Bruce's heart.

‘Good, because if I keep farting I’m gonna end up with dirty underwear again.’ Clark’s erection was at full force at this point and he didn't need Bruce exasperating it.

‘stop it. im at work, and i dont need lois asking why im hard whilst writing a report.’ Clark pressed send then added. ‘why are you holding it?’ Clark shifted restlessly as he watched the ‘...’ by Bruce’s name.

‘I have a surprise for you.’ Clark gulped. ‘Pick me up after work.’ After a moment another text was sent. ‘Sorry if I keep farting, I’m trying not to, but it’s hard keeping it all in.’ 

Clark was up and approaching the bathroom, and when he got to the relative privacy off it his hand was down his pants. He sent one final text to Bruce. ‘youre evil, you know that?’

A ‘ ;)’ was all he got back.

After he was finished he flushed away the evidence and walked back to his desk. Lois sent him a questioning look, probably due to how he had practically ran to the bathroom, but he pretended to ignore it. He also tried to ignore Bruce but that was slightly harder.

When they were finished with work, Clark picked up Bruce in one of Bruce’s more beat up cars. According to Bruce where they were going they didn’t need the added attention given to them by a Ferrari. They drove and Bruce only farted occasionally, other than the intermittent noises coming from his ass, they sat in amicable silence. Bruce directed him as he drove, telling him to turn left and right where appropriate.

Clark was unaware of Gotham's nooks and crannies. Metropolis he could draw a map of blindfolded, and be able to tell you where Nick the hotdog vendor’s stall was, as well as which alley way a cat called Snowball liked to sit in. He knew it almost as well as Smallville. Gotham however, always surprised him, but to Bruce everything the city seemed to throw unfazed him. Clark couldn't help but ponder this as they parked up in a warehouse district of the city.

It was run down to say the least; a place where only the drug peddlers and users would dare to roam. But they weren't here as Superman and Batman, no they were here as Bruce and Clark. Clark couldn't help but feel uneasy as they walked. People looked at them, but Bruce kept his head forward and walked like a man on a mission.

When they hit one of the grubbier warehouses Bruce walked in easily, putting the key in the lock and opening the door for Clark, Clark couldn't help but frown as he walked in. The place smelt like mildew and alcohol, and Clark could see the place was in massive disrepair. Bruce moved around the large expanse of the building until they hit a large crate, similar to the other ones in the building, Bruce approached the crate and opened it. It was empty on the inside but still Bruce entered and ushered Clark in after.

Once the crate was closed, Clark could hear Bruce doing something. He could see Bruce in the dark, moving around with practiced grace and seemingly pressing buttons and fiddling with switches, after a minute Clark heard something release, and he saw Bruce open up a hatch in the floor.

They went down the hatch, only to be confronted with another room, this one again dark and filled with more buttons and switches, Clark just stood and occasionally moved when Bruce needed to get to a switch that Clark was blocking. In this room a door swung open and after a 5 minute trek, most of which involved doubling back on themselves going up ladders and going down ladders they eventually got to a room which Clark felt his mouth drop at viewing.

It was white and pristine, nothing like the warehouse above them. In it were a few items, most of which looked like BDSM rigs that Clark blushed at viewing. The thing that caught Clark’s immediate attention however was the toilet that sat pride of place in the center of the room. 

It looked just like a normal toilet, but underneath it was a platform, large in size, elevating it from the ground. He stepped onto the platform and when he got closer to the toilet, he could see there was no water in it.

“I had this place constructed a while ago, the toilet is a new addition.” Clark looked back to Bruce. “I know you don't like watching me go in a toilet but I think you'll feel differently about this one.” Bruce moved toward the toilet, and ushered Clark out of the way, he opened a hatch on the side of the platform, and crawled into it. Clark watched as Bruce’s face soon sat at the bottom of the toilet, Clark felt his mouth open. “It’s custom built, I ordered the parts separately and assembled it myself here. I made the bedding underneath to your specifications so you should be comfortable, and the bottom of the bowl should form a seal around your face. What do you think?” Bruce was making a move to get out and when he was fully out his eyes seemed drawn to the large tent Clark’s pants were sporting. “I take it you like the idea.” Clark nodded sharply, Bruce laughed and patted his stomach. “Well it's a good thing I held it in then.” 

Clark was in the box and staring up at the ceiling of the room before Bruce even had his pants down. “Eager are we?” Bruce asked jovially and Clark didn’t reply for fear that the only thing that would come out of his mouth was a whine. He could hear the zipper going down and Clark couldn't help but gasp when Bruce's perfect ass was above him, toned and muscular. He couldn't see it too well in the low light but Bruce seemed to have been prepared as a ring of LED lights underneath the rim of the toilet bowl suddenly came on and Clark shuddered in anticipation.

For a moment, nothing came, Bruce ass moved above him and Clark could hear the toilet seat creak, he could also see Bruce’s asshole twitch as he bared down on the toilet.

Bruce farted loud and hard into the bowl and Clark was enveloped in the aroma, this time it was unable to disperse in the air. The smell wasn't going anywhere. Clark stroked his erection through his jeans as Bruce farted more and more and Clark could see Bruce fidget above him. He wanted to lean up and kiss and lick Bruce’s hole, but he also enjoyed the waiting, the moments were all that would come out is a stream of farts, and Clark could breathe them in wholeheartedly. 

He could see Bruce's anus pucker as the first log attempted to come out, Bruce was panting at the strain and Clark was practically shaking in anticipation for it, he opened his mouth and the first turd landed into it, and Bruce moaned at the relief. He ate it quickly before Bruce came out with more. He seemed to be uninterested in Clark as he shit, not talking to him or even making any indication that Clark was even there. It made Clark's cock pulse at the idea, that Bruce was shitting and had no idea he was here, watching that hole open with each new turd, and eating it when it landed in his mouth. 

Another bout of gas came and filled the bowl with noxious air, he saw Bruce shift above him, waving a hand in front of his face, Clark smiled and if anything he breathed deeper, Bruce may think his gas smelled awful, but to Clark it may as well be roses. 

The next batch of shit came out hard and fast and Clark was entirely unprepared. His mouth had been open but the shit was so large in size and loose that it overflowed from his mouth and ran all over his face, it went into his eyes and Clark whined at the lose of vision. He wanted to see Bruce’s anus explode with shit and all he could hear was Bruce’s tiny groans, he tried to lap up the shit around his mouth but it he couldn’t get to the stuff around his eyes.

He could hear Bruce saying something and soon water was filling in the bowl. Clark held his breath and soon the water emptied out in a side hatch leaving Clark’s face damp, but clean. He lamented the loss of shit, but looked back to Bruce's ass with anticipation. He could see Bruce's ass fluttering as he was trying to hold back his shit and in a gleeful moment of payback when Bruce started to loosen his clenched hole Clark blow a sharp burst of ice breath right on his red hole. 

Bruce jumped from the seat, giving off a loud squeak of a fart and Clark tried to repress his smile. Bruce looked into the bowl and frowned. Clark tried to look as innocent as he could as Bruce fidgeted, his ass muscles worked to keep his load in. Clark let his hand snake into his pants as he gripped himself. Bruce huffed as he sat back on the bowl and before the load came more gas. 

Bruce's new diet made his farts smell so good Clark wished he could bottle them and carry them around with him, but again when he saw the turd poking out he blew. Bruce didn't jump from his seat this time, but he did tense and the log retreated back in. Bruce immediately started to re-push, but again Clark blew, he could see Bruce’s anus open and close rapidly and Clark blew a series of quick ice breaths. Bruce got up and Clark could see his face, peering down at him in the bowl, his expression decidedly unimpressed. “Clark.” He said simply and Clark tried to make it look like he had no idea what it was all about, even through the bowl was obstructing his normal vision, the fact it wasn’t lead allowed Clark to see Bruce fidgeting as he bent over, trying to talk to Clark. “Stop blowing on my ass.” Bruce made a move to get over the bowl again and this time before Bruce's ass was even on the bowl he blew. “For fucks sake Kent. Stop it!” Bruce's voice was strained and Clark bit his lip as Bruce stood by the bowl his legs pushed together like a clamp. 

In an effort to perhaps bore Clark, Bruce put his pants back on and moved around the room, leaving Clark to watch him from the bowl. He could see Bruce clearly struggling to hold onto his shit, taking moments to just stand and rub his abdomen and mumble. Clark slowed his hand on his cock, but he was so turned on it was hard to not just keep going.

Bruce eventually came back to the toilet and looked in. “Are you going to behave yourself?” Clark didn't speak, and instead blew a ice cold raspberry. Bruce frowned and went back to walking. At one point Clark saw him support himself on one of the tables in the room as he pressed a hand against his ass, possibly hoping the pressure would keep his load inside. Clark’s breath hitched as he heard Bruce’s farts get wetter and wetter and eventually Bruce was back at the bowl. “Clark.” He said, and Clark just blew more cold air. Bruce whined this time, but he still walked away. 

Clark had dispensed with trying to take things slow, his pace increased as he saw Bruce waddling around the room, at one point he stopped and groaned and Clark could practically smell the out of gas that left him from all the way across the room, he could even hear the sound of runny shit dribbling out his ass with the farts, splattering the insides of his underwear. 

Another fart came and Clark heard Bruce's raced footsteps to the bowl, Bruce whimpered as he came, his fingers fumbling with his belt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck….” He whispered as his shaking fingers made getting the belt off next to impossible. His farts were wet and sopping and soon the belt was off and his pants were ripped down. Clark could see the shit dripping from his ass before it was even fully over the bowl and when it was, a flood erupted from Bruce showering Clark in all of his shit. He could hear Bruce moaning from above him and Clark jerked himself as he lapped at the runny shit covering his face. He didn't care that he couldn’t see anything, because in that moment all he knew was the smell and taste of Bruce. 

“Fuuuuuuck…” Clark knew it must have been painful, the burn in Bruce's ass. He wanted to kiss it, and he hoped Bruce would let him after he was done. He kept licking and breathing deep. However as the bowl was getting fuller and Bruce hadn't flushed, some of the shit went up Clark's nose and he had no choice but to suck air in through his shit filled mouth.

Eventually the torrent stopped and another wash of water took the shit from Clark. He was left looking at Bruce's ass, brown and glistening and then he got up and looked down into the bowl at Clark. “You are going to have to clean me.” Clark nodded and scrambled out of the box his red and hard dick poking out from his pants. Bruce frowned at it. “You are not allowed to touch yourself, understand.” Clark nodded guilty as he saw Bruce look into his underwear. There were practically dyed brown all over and Bruce gave an angry sigh before he got up and made his way to a flat table in the room. Bruce laid down on it, pulling his knees under himself, giving Clark perfect access to his hole. Bruce grunted and that was all the confirmation Clark needed as he soon got to work licking it and peppering his ass with kisses. 

A burst of gas came right onto his face and Clark pressed his nose into the hole, breathing in deep. “You don’t deserve this, I should be punishing you-” Clark kept licking hard and fast and reached around to grab hold of Bruce’s hard dick and jerked it as he licked “Fuck Clark...” Bruce said softly. Clark stuck his tongue in deep, and managed to get to the small pieces of shit Bruce hadn't managed to push out. Bruce was moaning and Clark kept lapping.

He came with a shout and Clack caught it in his hand and brought it to his mouth to savour the salty taste. Bruce slumped forward and Clark's licks lessened, until he stopped fully. 

Bruce turned and Clark was left to stare over Bruce's toned body, his own erection still standing proud. Bruce sat up and regarded it. Before getting up, and throwing his soiled pair of underwear in the bin. Clark watched him clean up everything and get dressed. Then it hit Clark that he was being punished. He looked down at his throbbing dick and when Bruce was close by he asked him if he could touch himself.

Bruce glared at him and then looked off as if thinking for a moment before immediately looking back at Clark. “No.” Clark made a noise in the back of his throat. “Clark you made me shit in a pair of 200 dollar underwear when there was a toilet. Right. There. So no. You are no.” Clark bit his lip.

“But Bruce I couldn’t help it you look so good when you're desperate.” Clark tried to look especially pathetic as he spoke, and he saw Bruce’s glare soften ever so slightly.

“I don’t care Clark, i’ll have to think of a better way to punish you as this-” He said pointing at Clark’s throbbing dick. “Is not enough.” Clark gulped and started to tuck his dick back into his pants. He looked down at the tent then back at Bruce, who showed no hint of remorse.

Bruce was soon leaving and Clark followed after, giving this new play room one last look before following Bruce into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy, hope you enjoyed this chapter my lovelies. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains feeding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact the working title for this chapter was 'fud fuk'. This chapter just includes feeding.

It was strange walking out of the playroom and back into what Clark perceived as a different world. The way they shifted back into their usual patterns as if what had just occurred underneath the abandoned warehouse hadn't even have happened. Bruce spoke as if they had just been leaving work, and not as if Clark was still sporting the remains of an erection. He felt it throb dully as they made their way out. As soon as they were back outside, Bruce pulled out his phone. They got into the car and when they drove off he spoke. “Alfred, just to say I’m going to Clark’s tonight so you don’t need to prepare me anything.” A pause. ”I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up and turned to Clark. “You’re cooking for me Kent, so it better be good.” Clark nodded. They drove to an alleyway, which Bruce often used to store his cars if he needed to go from porsche to Batmobile in a pinch. He pressed a button on the dash and a false wall of one of the buildings moved revealing an garage. They parked the car there and soon they were flying to Metroposis. 

They landed on Clark’s balcony and entered. Bruce immediately took off his jacket and fell onto the couch. “I’m starving. What’s for dinner.” Clark moved to the kitchen and inspected his pantry and fridge. There was hardly anything, he had been spending more time at Bruce’s recently meaning the supplies at his place were low to say the least.

“Uh? I could make you-” He picked up a can of peaches that were past their expiration date. He eyed the other cans with disdain before sighing. “How about we go to the store?” Bruce nodded and went to Clark’s room and got changed, when he emerged he was in one of Clark's ratty t-shirts and ripped jeans. That alone wouldn’t convince anyone he wasn't Bruce Wayne, but his posture and expression sold it. Clark readied himself as well, and soon they were heading of to the local store.

Walking around the aisles with Bruce was nice. Due to Bruce being one of the most famous men in America, they rarely got to do things as a couple. A few dinners hidden in shadowed corners of restaurants, or going to remote parts of the world disguised with clothes and makeup. This was something altogether different for Clark, the domestic nature of this activity. It made Clark feel warm, so he relished the opportunity to snake his hand in Bruce's and pick what kind of yogurt they were going to get. 

After a while the basket was overflowing with food and Bruce frowned at it. “Maybe we should have got a trolley.” Clark looked down at the basket and lifted it in his hand as if it weighed nothing. 

“Nah its fine. Unless you plan on buying more food.” They had just entered the bakery section and Bruce looked at all the items, picking a few up and looking them over thoroughly. “You know, I could go and get ingredients and make us a pie.” Bruce smiled as he looked up from the danishes to Clarks face, and soon the cart was laden with even more food. 

They checked out easily though carrying the things back to Clark's apartment was a bit go a challenge. Clark must have looked comical with the number of bags he held in his arms. Bruce seemed to take advantage of Clark’s strength, and let him deal with the bounty they had just collected. When they got in they put all the food away and Clark got cooking. Bruce said he would prepare the dining room, and when he was finished go and wait in the living room.

Clark spent the time preparing anything he could think of. Bruce had picked up a plethora of ingredients and the cook in Clark was overflowing with ideas. He first made the pastry for the pie before putting it in the fridge to chill. He then got to making a compote to go into the pie crust using strawberries and apples. He let that cool and thicken and moved onto the savory dishes. He started with appetizers, taking prawns and putting them in a marinade, he also made a platter with cheese meats and crackers. He doesn't make a lot as he wants Bruce to get filled up on the main course.

He mashed potato, cooked plenty of vegetables- as one of Bruce's stipulations for this meal was that it doesn't ‘clog him up’. He then pulled out the two larges steaks from the fridge. He could hear Bruce getting up to investigate and before he rounded the corner Clark was there stopping him. “It’s a surprise.” Bruce frowned but didn’t say anything as he went back to whatever show he was watching. 

When he was done he told Bruce who then moved to the dining room. Clark went in after him carrying two large platters holding all of the food and when he saw the room his mouth dropped. 

The table he usually had in the middle of the room was pushed to the side and Bruce was sitting by a small fold out table Clark had used when he had first moved in and had no furniture. He was naked, his clothes strewn about on the floor. He had pulled one of Clark’s arm chairs from the living room and was currently reclined in it as he looked at Clark expectantly. He put his trays on the large table and put the appetizers on the smaller one. “This is just a little something to wet the palette.” Bruce nodded and reached for a prawn and seemed to hum in enjoyment as he placed it in his mouth.

Bruce ate slow. Methodical, and Clark watched him intently as he himself ate from the tray. He was shoving them in his mouth as Bruce reached for one and chewed on it slowly, when he ate another, the sauce got caught at the corner of his mouth and started to trickle down. Clark wanted to lick it, but Bruce's tongue had already drafted out and claimed it before he could. 

Once the platter was finished, largely from Clark himself eating a good proportion of it, he brought over their main course. It was hard to fit all of the serving plates on the table, as well at their two plates, but he did it and soon he was serving Bruce a juicy steak and a hearty helping of everything else he had prepared. Bruce chewed on a green bean and smirked. “You sure do love your garlic.” Bruce used his fork to spear another vegetable on his plate, which was also dripping with butter and garlic sauce. 

Clark shrugged. “It makes everything taste good. Why do you think garlic bread is the greatest food ever invented.” 

Bruce cut his steak into small pieces and with each bite he sat back and chewed on the tender meat, letting the juices flow around his palette. He hummed in enjoyment and with half lidded eyes looked to Clark. Clark blushed and took a bite of his own. They made their way across all off the plates, Bruce eating from all of them and trying to eat a good sized amount of each. Anything he didn't finish off Clark did, and soon Bruce was burping interminatadly as he took smaller bites which he chewed more and more.

He ate a lot though, managing to finish off his steak as well as nearly all of the vegetables. He leant back in his chair and rubbed his stomach appreciatively. “That was a delicious Clark.” He bit his lip and scooted his chair closer to Bruce, and watched as he relaxed in his chair. Clark reached for his stomach and rubbed it ever so slightly in gentle circular motions. Bruce sighed and leant back further, spreading his legs in the process.

Clark gulped. “There is still a pie.” He said suddenly, he looked over to the large table where it sat. “I could- I could feed it to you. If you wanted.” Bruce smirked. 

On shaky legs Clark made his way to the table, and cut a piece of pie. He also had some fruit on the table to feed Bruce, but he wanted to start with the pie. He rushed into the kitchen and pulled out the ice cream and put some on the now lukewarm dessert. He made his way back to Bruce who had taken over rubbing his own stomach and Clark sat back down on the chair next to him. He used the spoon to cut a small bit of the pie and get some ice cream on it before lifting it to Bruce's lips. He opened his mouth and Clark placed the spoon inside. Bruce closed his lips around it and the spoon was pulled away. Bruce hummed again and savoured the bite. “Don't tell Martha I said this, but your pie is better than hers.”

Flustered Clark took another spoon full. “It’s the same recipe Bruce…” He said, but he couldn't help but smile. “But thank you.” The next bite he tried to get more of the fruit compote in and Bruce seemed to respond to the added sweetness. 

“No it’s not. You put strawberries in it.” Bruce opened his mouth and Clark rushed to get the next bite in. “I don’t how much I can eat of it though. I'm getting quite full.” Clark eyed his stomach and with each bite he watched as it made his way down Bruce's esophagus and land in his filled up stomach. He got another bite ready.

“It’s nothing that Batman can't handle.” He put the bite to Bruce's lips and he sucked it off. “You could eat the whole pie if you wanted to.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I probably could. But I doubt it would be entirely healthy for me to consume that much butter in one sitting.” Clark looked back to the table.

“You could eat half…” He said quietly and kept feeding Bruce more bites of pie. Bruce huffed and looked over the table.

“I suppose…” Clark tried not to let his excitement show, but his erection was doing a poor job of that. When the bowl was empty he made his way over to the table and cut another larger piece of pie. Again, he put more ice cream on top. When he returned Bruce was making a face. His tummy was making quiet gurgling noises as it tried to digest the mountain of food already in it, and Clark put the bowl on the table before running back into the kitchen. They had brought sorbet at the store and Clark put a scoop into a bowl before going back to Bruce. When he felt Bruce was starting to waver and frown whilst eating a bite of pie, Clark would lift a spoon of sharp raspberry sorbet up to Bruce's lips and the change in flavor kept him going. After the second bowl of pie Bruce leant back in his chair further, his eyes nearly closed. “I'm so full….” Clark gulped and quietly got up to get another piece. This time whilst at the table he picked up the pullet of strawberries as well.

Bruce ate slowly, each bite taking at least half a minute for him to chew, he kept alternating the flavours but even that seemed to wear thin on Bruce's palette eventually. He still had half a bowl left when he grumbled and pushed Clark’s hand away. Clark put the spoon back into the bowl and let his hand rest on Bruce's stomach. “You need a break?” He asked quietly. Bruce made another grumble and looked over to the table of food. 

“I need something salty… I can't handle anymore sweet.” Clark nodded and gave the table a once over. There wasn't much left of anything so he went into the kitchen to check what else they had brought from the store. He saw a packet of crisps and brought them back in. The bag crinkled as he carried it and once in the room Bruce looked at the bag. He murmured a noise of agreement and Clark opened the packet and brought a chip up to his lips. In crunched loudly as Bruce's jaw worked on it. Clark kept feeding him them until Bruce made a grumble. Then he switched to some strawberries. 

He kept changing it up, giving Bruce all of the foods in different orders so he was not prepared for what came next. Bruce's eyes were closed at this point and Clark's own were staring at his protruding stomach. He looked amazing. His usual toned body bloated and engorged with all the food Clark had prepared. It was hard to stay focused on feeding Bruce, to the extent he didn’t even realise he'd run out of pie until he heard his spoon clink on the porcelain bowl.. 

“You did it Bruce. you ate half the pie.” Clark said it breathily and Bruce made a murmur of agreement. 

“Of course I did, i'm the goddamn Batman….” He grumbled and brought his hands up to cradle his tummy. “Clark…” That was all Clark needed as he came forward and rubbed more circles onto Bruce's mass. He kissed it and rubbed as it gurgled and after a few minuted Bruce was whimpering. “It’s cramping…” 

Clark murmured against the stretched skin of Bruce stomach. “I could run us a bath… Do you think that would help?” 

“Yes.” He said suddenly, quiet in volume, as if talking any louder would ruin the atmosphere. Clark sped to the bath and ran the water before immediately going back to Bruce. To him, it was like he never left. He kept kissing and stroking and when the bath was filled he carried Bruce to the bathroom.

Carrying him whilst he was full of food was hard. Bruce physically couldn't bend over, without massive pain and Clark had to hold him in a particular way as to not put any pressure on his midsection. He eased him into the water and as he did Bruce moaned loudly. “Fuck yes…” Clark stayed by the side of the bath rubbing Bruce as he reclined. “Get in the bath now.” Clark made an ‘Oh’ before stripping and easing Bruce forward and slipping behind him. His hard dick pressed against Bruce’s body and Clark had to resist rutting up against him. He kept rubbing into Bruce's stomach and when one hand went down a little further he noticed that Bruce was as excited from their activities as he was. Bruce wiggled himself into Clark a sign for him to continue, and with hitched breath he started to move against him, bringing a hand around Bruce. His other hand, travelled across the taught skin above, and felt the small rumbles Bruce's stomach gave. Clark was getting barely any traction from gently grazing his dick against Bruce, he was trying not to move too much as he didn't want to get water everywhere, but he also didn't want to bring his hands away from Bruce's body.

His body was exquisite in this moment and Clark wanted to worship it in anyway possible. He kept touching Bruce, and whilst he always kept one hand on his cock, he let the other one roam the entirely of Bruce's bulge and occasionally let a hand run across his nipple. He felt the muscles there and for a moment thought of fat being there, of Bruce's body swelled with fat that Clark had given him.

He stopped moving his crotch out of guilt. Bruce was going to have to work out and detox for the next few days if he didn't want to gain any significant weight from this evening and the past weekend. Clark shouldn't have liked the idea of Bruce growing, this was enough. He was content. Though he couldn't ignore the fire he felt down below at the idea of Bruce like that.

“Clark.” Bruce said in a whine, and Clark increased his pace. Bruce groaned and bucked into his touch, and the ripples caused the water to overspill. Clark himself had seemed to lose whatever thought he had up to that point and he too joined in on the manic race for relief Bruce was running. 

Bruce came first and Clark maintained his furious rutting as Bruce fell back more firmly against him. Clark brought his hand away from Bruce’s softening dick and down to his own, but kept the other hand gently rubbing Bruce.

“Fuck.” He muttered into Bruce's shoulder as he too dirtied the bath further. They sat in the lukewarm water catching their breath before Bruce got up and stretched, his hand then strayed and he started rubbing his stomach and for a moment he just stood and Clark looked up at him. Before he could say anything, though he wasn't sure what he would say, Bruce climbed out of the tub and without drying went into the bedroom. 

He followed him, like a faithful dog and when he got to the bedroom Bruce was laying on the bed, naked and glistening from the water on his skin. “I was wondering if you wanted to go back to the playroom tomorrow.” He said as he gazed up at the ceiling. Clark nodded and then voiced his agreement when he realised Bruce hadn’t noticed his response. He saw Bruce smile. “I thought you would. I get a feeling all this food is going to make a big treat for you.” Clark gulped and clambered into bed next to him. He was going to speak, but when his mouth opened no words came forth so he just held Bruce in a damp embrace, until sleep took them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got kinda fed up with this chapter so sorry if it kinda seems less polished than my other stuff, but my brain was like not co-operating for like 90% of writing it. hopefully i'll be out of my funk soon. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains scat, farts and shit eating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Auughhhh.... I'm sorry this took so long. I just have like four fics on the go and like i'm never in the mood to write any of them. I wanted to get this chapter finished however as i'm going on holiday soon. It may have a butt ton of spelling errors, but I will edit it as I spot them. Enjoy!

When they awoke the next morning, Clark was giddy with nervous anticipation. Bruce seemed completely unperturbed by it all, as he went about making his own breakfast and sitting in front of the tv. It was still early, the idea being to go to the playroom and then to work. Clark at first mentioned doing it after work, but Bruce had said he wouldn’t be able to hold it for that long. He ate a lot of food last night, and Clark would take a telling off from Lois for being late if it meant being with Bruce.

When they entered the playroom, Bruce asked him to wait in the corridor whilst he arranged a few things inside. Clark nodded before resolutely looking away, he knew he could peek, or listen in to what Bruce was doing, but at the same time he didn't want to, he felt a thrill run through him at the idea of something happening that he wasn't prepared for, and he didn't want to spoil that feeling.

Bruce was gone for five minutes, and whilst he tried, Clark couldn't help the small snippets that entered his ears, small farts here and there as well as a scraping sound of metal on concrete. Clark had no idea what Bruce was doing inside, and when he was finally allowed to turn around he was greeted with alot of new equipment dotted around the room.

“I had all of this commissioned as well; along with the toilet.” He gestured around the room to a few of the new pieces in it. One was a wall with a hole in it, which seemed to be about the size of Bruce's midsection, and on one side a deep bowl was underneath it. Near that was a harness hanging from the ceiling. 

There was also another toilet in the room, though this one looked ordinary in appearance, with no raised platform, or anything to suggest it was something other than what it appeared to be. Clark eyed it curiously before looking back to Bruce.

“So Clark, what did you want to do?” 

Clark gulped and moved around the room, he pointed to one thing or another and asked what it was, Bruce explained with a level headed patience that Clark didn't have at that moment. He was so hard about the mere idea of doing half the things Bruce had described that he just felt himself nodding furiously as Bruce spoke. “Well if you can't decide I could always make an executive decision.” Bruce said as they finished the small circuit around the room, Clark felt like a kid in a candy store. Everything Bruce had described sounded wonderful and he wanted to do it all. He bit his lip and told Bruce to make the call. “Okay. I need you to wear this though, whilst I get everything ready.” Bruce pulled a blindfold from his back pocket, Clark could see it was lead lined and eyed it suspiciously. “I don’t want you to ruin the surprise.” Clark was about to retort when he decided against it, he pulled on the blindfold and imminently hated how blind he felt. Even though he could still hear everything with crystal clarity, he hated not being able to see Bruce in any way. He opened his eyes, and was immediately greeted with pitch black, the likes of which Clark hardly ever came across. It unsettled him and he started counting the minutes until he could take it off. 

He tried in vain to look through the lead again, and with each passing moment he could feel a slight panic set in. He focused instead on his hearing and everything seemed to be amplified with his vision gone. He could hear Bruce's clothes scrap against his skin, his even breathing, and if he really focused, the blood circulating his veins.

He could also hear more scraping, as well as other things moving around. Eventually he heard Bruce's clothes coming undone and he bit his lip in anticipation. 

“Okay. You can take it off now.” Clark had ripped off the blindfold before Bruce was finished with his sentence and what he saw made his heart sink.

Bruce's lower half was covered by a lead lined box, he must have been sitting atop the toilet Clark had noticed earlier, and the scraping sound must have been Bruce dragging the covering to encase it. It was only Bruce's lover half that was covered, as he used the level surface of the box to rest his elbows on, and look at Clark with a semi malicious grin.

“You didn't think I'd forgotten about what you'd done? This is your punishment Clark.” If it were possible, Clark’s heart sank further as he fell to his knees and strained his vision against the walling. He couldn't see anything, and he groaned. “Now then, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Bruce seemed to focus before stopping again. “Oh I almost forgot…” Bruce fiddled with a remote control in his hand, before Clark heard a sound fill the air. A loud fart bellowed and Bruce gave a chuckle. “I linked up a microphone.” Clark didn't know wether to be thankful or critical. As more sounds started to emanate from the small speaker next to the box, he realised he was not enjoying himself. 

He wanted to see it, to smell it. He attempted to heighten his sense of smell, but the box must have been airtight as he couldn't get a damn thing. He sat up so Bruce could see him over the edge of the box. “Bruce.” He said in his most pitiful voice.

Bruce stopped his pushing to regard Clark. “What?” He said before more gas exploded from his ass.

Clark didn't know how to explain it to him. What he was feeling at that moment. It was strange how sad he felt, as each plop and fart hit his ears, he felt a wash of regret and he rested his head against the box. “I’m sorry Bruce, I didn’t mean to make you shit yourself, I won't do it again.” He mumbled the apology as he sat there, hoping that Bruce would accept it.

The farting continued, and Bruce didn’t say anything to Clark as he shit. Clark kept repeating the apology as he sat there, the words becoming a jumble in his mind and in his voice as he spoke. He couldn’t focus, his concentration was in tatters, and his stomach felt like a knot. Bruce brought his hand up to touch his head, and Clark tried to feel the warmth in the action, but he still felt cold. 

Bruce gave a sigh before he reached around and pressed the flush mechanism, Clark sat back and tried not to look too crushed. He really should have expected Bruce to follow up on his threat, wishing for him to forget about it had be stupid. He stood up and watched as the hinge of the casing swung open. 

He tried not to let the look of pure joy swallow his face, but when his eyes grazed Bruce's midsection he felt a giant grin pulling on his lips. “You didn't go.” He said.

Bruce huffed, “Of course I didn’t, I wouldn’t eat that amount of food for you only to shit it all in a toilet.” Bruce got up, and rubbed his stomach. “I hope you learnt your lesson Kent, as next time I won’t be as forgiving.” Clark nodded solemnly. He learnt his lesson alright.

Clark looked into the toilet bowl and then back to Bruce. “How did you do the noise-” Bruce pointed toward the box at a small speaker sitting beside it, and pressed a button on the remote, a loud fart sounded. Clark nodded and then quickly let his excitement show again.

“Now you better pick what we’re doing, otherwise I'm shitting right here.” Bruce kept rubbing his stomach, and as he farted, Clark could see the muscles of his asshole straining. 

He looked at everything again, he didn't have a lot of time. He walked around the room, and tried to not let Bruce's whines rattle him. When he got to the harness, he gave a terse nod. “I want you in this.”

Bruce made a face. “If you help me get in it.” Clark nodded and watched as Bruce waddled his way over to where he stood. He stared at the series of buckles and straps and tried to figure out what he was looking at exactly. Bruce reached and pulled the harness over himself and started to put it on. For areas he couldn’t quite reach Clark helped him to buckle up.

At one point Bruce groaned. “I need to cut one. Clark stick your finger in my ass.” Clark didn't need to be told twice, and brought his finger to gently circle Bruce's hole, “Shove it in Clark!” He barked, and Clark did. 

Bruce's muscles were drawn tight and when his finger went in he felt them loosen, bubbles of gas ebbed there way past his finger, and Bruce leant back against him. “Fuck I need to go.” He tried to push more, but Clark’s finger prevented anything from escaping. Clark couldn't help himself as he began circling his finger. Bruce whined, but did not reject the movement. He kept farting past the finger, and Clark kept his finger scraping against the load inside of Bruce. “We need to get this harness on.” Bruce said quietly, and Clark nodded, and with stilted movements they continued putting on the jacket. 

As each buckle attached Clark could see that the leather straps wrapped around Bruce's body and his legs, when it got time to wrap his arms up as well Clark needed to pull his finger out. Bruce had stopped him before he did pushing hard against Clark’s finger on last time before it was removed. When he pulled it out he inspected the brown digit and smirked at Bruce who kept grumbling and waiting impatiently for Clark to buckle up the rest of the harness.

When he was done, Bruce stood with his legs crossed nonchalantly, trying to ignore the burning pressure in his ass. Clark looked up the chains hanging from the ceiling and on the buckles across Bruce's front. “So I just attach you to that right?” Bruce nodded, and Clark lifted Bruce up easily. With one hand he supported Bruce's body as he clamped each buckle securely onto the chain. Once his torso was secure, Clark worked on his legs. As soon as he lifted one he heard Bruce groan and watched as his asshole fluttered. “Hurry up Kent.” He ground out, the position meant his asshole was being pulled open slightly and Clark watched the brown wrinkle open and close as he worked. 

Once he was up Clark stood back to appreciate him, his body hung down from the ceiling, his torso and arms secure in the leather and metal. Two long chains on his shoulders supported his upper body, each attaching themselves to a metal hoop supporting the weight there. Two more chains hung down and attached themselves to his knees, bringing them up at a bend, and giving his body some stability. Whilst attaching him Bruce had mentioned something about a system which meant Clark could move the chains and thus how Bruce hung. If he wanted to he could spread his legs further, or bring him up higher, but Clark liked him how he was.

“Clark…” Bruce said as a form of warning, and Clark moved closer to his body watching his asshole crown. He brought his finger back to the hole, and pressed it in. Bruce grunted and took it unable to move away and alleviate the added pressure. When he tried to push this time all that came was one fart, short and sad. There was hardly any gas left in him to expel, it was all shit now, and Clark bit his lip.

He moved his finger away, but brought his tongue to lick and press. The turd was poking out slightly and as Clark’s tongue scraped it it retreated back into Bruce's rectum only to come back out again in a matter of moments. Clark felt a multitude of ideas roll through his head as he licked Bruce, and brought his hand up to stroke as his semi erect cock. 

He pulled away and brought his hand underneath Bruce's ass and watched as the shit spread his asshole and slid out of his hole. Bruce moaned and lolled his head back in the harness savouring the feeling. When Clark felt enough had come out he slowly pushed it back in.

Bruce gasped and cut it off, his ass muscles tensing shut. Clark murmured, “Bruce…” And though he heard Bruce whine in response, his asshole loosened again. Clark began to shove the small load back into Bruce, it was soft so most of it squished against the hole and only a bit went in. He still kept going though, using his fingers to get the excess and squeeze it back in. His hands were covered, as were Bruce's cheeks, which he began licking again. 

He repeated the process a few more times, letting Bruce push out the load within in him, only for Clark to try and squeeze it back in, it was a messy process, and whilst Clark was pretty sure more of it ended up on his hands and Bruce’s ass rather than back inside him, he still continued. He felt a thrill of gleeful enjoyment go through him as he played with Bruce's shit, letting his hands smear it around only to lick it Bruce clean again. 

Bruce himself seemed to be in an inbetween state of discomfort and comfort, both enjoying the feeling Clark was subjecting him to and disliking it. He didn't even know how much he had shat out. He knew a large amount was smeared along his ass cheeks as well as on Clark's hands. But he had no idea how much was still in him. He still felt so full He was sure what ever shit had left him had been immediately replaced by his breakfast that morning.

Clark seemed to be in a dream state as he worked, his eyes half lidded and face flushed pink. When Bruce would look down on him he'd see those eyes looking like glass, staring at him and through him. 

When Clark has stopped his licking it was to float along the room to get the lube. Bruce felt a familiar thrill go through him and as hung and Clark pressed a now lubed finger into his already loosened hole. It usually took them a while to prep Bruce increasing the number of fingers gradually. This time it seemed to be mere moments in between each finger addition. 

Clark entered slow and long after the third finger was removed. Bruce should have been ready for it, but his already overfilled guts combined with Clark's cock made his groan in mild pain. It was nothing too bad. But the added pressure did nothing to alleviate the hard mass within him.

And Bruce was certain it was a mass at this point. If he was to go the turd that would leave him would would be long and continuous he was sure. It felt like there was physically no room left inside him, with every fold of his intestine bursting with shit

Clark thrust shallowly and slowly. Enjoying the way Bruce shit would try and escape as he pulled back only for it to be forced back in as Clark thrust forward. It surrounded him, the warmth and texture. And as he felt himself approaching the edge he brought his still dirty hand to wrap around Bruce. 

Clark added more to Bruce load inside him and fell forward as his legs gave out. He pressed even further into Bruce and he felt the muscle of his anus spasm against him. He knew Bruce was full. He could see it. But seeing it inside was different to seeing it out. 

He pulled out and as he did the slicked log in Bruce shifted along with it. The first turd had a white sheen along in before before it plopped onto the ground. Clark stopped him after the first short piece and pushed his finger back in. "Clark..." Bruce ground out and Clark felt his stomach knot.

"You’re gonna shit a little bit out and i’ll eat it out of your ass." Clark felt his stomach roll as he suggested the idea. He knew Bruce didn’t like him eating his shit. At least not all of it.

Bruce didn't voice his obvious reluctance. Clark kept the finger in a while longer and when he took it out his mouth was there hot and waiting. Bruce pushed the load out and Clark mouth bite into it before shoving his finger back in. He lifted his head and for the first time Bruce actually watched those powerful jaws working on the mass he created.

With the next load Clark let more out before starting to chew. Finally Bruce felt the sought after relief he yearned for and his bowels were feeling lighter and lighter with each movement. He even blasted out a few more bursts of gas that must have have been caught in some of the denser areas. 

It got to the halfway point that Bruce pinched off of his own volition. Clark lapped and sucked but Bruce held firm. Eventually Clark gave an exasperated sigh. "Bruce." He said curtly. 

"Clark it's not healthy to eat this much..." He tried being a voice of reason but he doubted it came across that way. 

"Bruce seriously. It's fine. You need to keep going." He said the words in a rush, as if the shit in Bruce would dematerialise if he didn't get back to eating it soon. 

But Bruce was skeptical. Clark was in his ‘just say anything to get the ball rolling’ stage of desperation. He didn't know much about Kryptonian physiology, but he assumed it was very much like a humans (aside from the heat vision and ability to fly), and whilst he was sure eating shit wouldn't kill a human, he was certain it would make them ill. “Clark it's referred to as waste for a reason. There is no nutritional value in it.” 

Clark gave a roll of the eyes. “Bruce. Believe me when I say that’s not a big deal.” He gave a long lick across his crack. “Keep going.” 

If it was possible for Bruce to shit unhappily he was doing it. There was still however the fact that it felt amazing, even if he was a tad unhappy with Clark. Clark seemed happy and even paid Bruce’s forgotten erection some attention. He tensed when he first felt the hand grip him, he did however ease up again once Clark lapped and stroked a few more times. 

Shiting whilst being jerked off felt seemed to cause Bruce arousal to jump in weird spikes, at points he would feel the shit exciting him and shiver, and not two seconds later Clark would twist his hand in a divine way that would make Bruce sees stars. He gasped and moaned and wasn't sure which sensation was which and only that it all felt exceptional.

When he came he heard Clark give a muffled groan of his own, he kept shitting as Clark ate until eventually when he pushed nothing came out. 

He revealed in it for a moment, the emptiness. It felt surreal as only 10 minutes previously he had been bursting at the seams. Clark looked up at him, his face smeared, and Bruce couldn't help but smile.

Getting bruce down from the harness was significantly easier than getting him into it, especially considering Bruce was already releasing himself by the time Clark reached for the chains. As soon as he hit the floor the jacket came off in a heap on the floor with Bruce stretching his muscles. Clark made a face to which Bruce gave a small. “What?”

They cleaned up, Clark making sure everything was wiped down and ready for their next foray down here, Bruce hopped into the small bathroom attached to the side of the room to shower. Clark got changed whilst Bruce washed, pulling out his work suit from his duffel bag. He was almost ready by the time Bruce emerged.

Steam followed him out of the room and he rubbed his hair with a towel as he regarded Clark. “You’re late for work.” He said simply. Clark eyed his watch before wincing at it. He gave Bruce a quick kiss before attempting to rush out. Bruce coughed once and Clark stopped dead in his tracks. “You have no idea what your face looks like do you?”

Clark frowned before Bruce pulled him towards a mirror at the side of the room. Clark blushed deep scarlet before rushing to the bathroom to wash his face.

When he got to work Lois gave him a telling off, but nothing at that point could dampen his mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this chapter is done! Remember if you guys like the fic please kudos and comment! You can also send me an ask on my tumblr: [Trashcan Mcgee](http://trashcan-mcgee.tumblr.com/)  
> ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhhh. Okay. So. Yeah. I don't know what is up with me lately. But my drive for writing these kind of fics is dwindling. I think I've burnt myself out so i'm gonna take a break and write less kinky shit and maybe more story based or less sex focused ones. I think cause i've written quiet a few of these fics theyre all starting to sound the same to me. I just need a break from them to start enjoying writing them again. I'll finish off this one as there is only one more chapter but after that i'll probs write some other stuff for a while and come back to the fetish fics when I feel more inspiration. Okay, that was my rant. Enjoy the fic! :D :D :D

“Talk.” Bruce said as he walked into Clark’s living room.

He had picked him up from work and then flown him here for a quiet dinner together. The boys were all off doing their own things and Bruce didn’t want to give Alfred work to do when it wasn’t necessary so he’d given him the night off and now Clark was lumbered with the pressing task of feeding Bruce Wayne.

Clark however still had some work to do so had grabbed his laptop and was currently typing up his article in the living room when Bruce had made his way in from the bathroom, his arms crossed. He looked determined but Clark couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

“Uh, according to a British law passed in 1845-”

“That is not what i’m talking about.” Bruce huffed,

Clark gave a shrug. “You said talk Bruce, you didn't exactly say what to ‘talk’ about.”

With a roll of the eyes Bruce approached. “Back in the playroom you said and I quote- ‘believe me when I say that’s not a big deal’ in reference to eating my shit and I want to know what you meant by that.” He gave Clark his patented stare down which still managed to make him shiver, even with how long they’ve been together.

“Well I just meant-”

 

“Don’t lie to me Clark Joseph Kent.”

He gulped. His full name. It only came out when Bruce was either incredibly mad or horny and he doubted it was the latter at this very moment. He shut his laptop and placed it on the coffee table. “I don't know how to tell you. It’s complicated.” 

“I am the world's greatest detective Clark, i’m pretty sure i’ll understand whatever it is you tell me.” He deadpanned, his face remained as impassive as a brick wall as he sat on the seat next to him, letting his hand ease its way to Clark’s and stroke it gently.

“Well, it’s my body. I don't know how to describe it, but I don't digest food like humans do.” Bruce furrowed his brows. “It's like my stomach acid is highly acidic, like the moment food touches it, it breaks down. So when it comes to eating, I can just keep going and going.”

“How did you find out about this?” 

“Well, when I had medical scans at the League HQ, and also it’s my own body Bruce. I kind of know what's going on in it.” He shuddered. “The first time I threw up I burned a hole in the ground.”

Bruce fell back into the couch, his stare pensive. “So you can never get full?”

“Well, technically. But I never feel hungry to begin with so I just eat when I want to eat, and what ever amount I want. Though I try not to eat, you know, too much. More for my bank account's sake than my own.” He leant back as well, letting his head roll onto Bruce’s shoulder. “But yeah, that’s why it ain’t a big deal when I eat your shit Bruce. It doesn't affect me.” 

“But what about, you know, going to the bathroom. Surely you must decimate every toilet you come across if you eat that amount.”

A laugh strong and loud made it’s way out of Clark as he watched Bruce’s face go from serious to mildly annoyed. “Oh Bruce.” He wiped his eyes. “It’s like the total opposite.”

At this Bruce's eyes narrowed. “What do you-”

“I told you.” Clark had regained some semblance of control over himself as he continued speaking, though he was still smiling. “My body digests food differently. It breaks down everything, and in my intestines pretty much all of it gets absorbed, meaning anything left over is about-” Clark lifted his hand and made a small circle using his finger and thumb. “This size.”

Bruce stared at those fingers for an inordinately long time, even moving his head closer to stare at them. “I don’t believe you.” He said finally.

Clark cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean-” 

“Show me.”

With a slight huff Clark got up from the sofa, he wanted to pace but there was hardly any room in his cramped apartment. “You want me to-” He looked at Bruce whose eyes had that determined edge to them, the same kind that he would get when he was close to cracking a case. “You want me to go to the bathroom for you?” His bobbed his head at the question and Clark heaved a sigh. “Then i’m gonna need to eat a lot of food Bruce.”

Without missing a beat he replied. “I’ll handle that.”

\--

When Clark got back from his shower, it was to the sight of Bruce sitting at the dining room table with 10 different takeaway menus in front of him. Clark stood behind him as Bruce picked up the phone and ordered something from every single one of them. In a way he was excited to test his limits. He had tried to before when he was younger, but had run out of food. It seemed Bruce was making sure that didn't happen. “Can I please get a extra large meat lovers with a side order of-” Clark lifted the menus to get a better look at them and leant over slightly to see Bruce’s notepad. On it was what he had already ordered. It was a massive list and Clark shuddered at how much it would cost. “Yes, thank you.” He hung up and cracked his knuckles. “Okay, how much more do you think?” He asked as he looked around to Clark. 

“How much have you got already?” Bruce lifted the notebook and turned the page to reveal one already full one. Clark gave a small nod. “At Least another page.” 

He still wasn't done by the time the first order got to the flat. Bruce was at his station in the dining room and looked like he was staying there until his mission was done, so Clark reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his pants and used his cash to pay. It was his idea to try and feed Clark to max capacity, he should be the one to foot the bill. One after the other, the orders came and at points two or more would come at the same time. It was slightly embarrassing accepting the two gigantic orders of food when there was no way he could convince them there was atleast a party going on. The fact Clark had changed into his pyjamas did not help at all. 

He brought each order as it arrived to where Bruce sat. Whenever a lull in orders happened, Clark sat at the table and dug into the food that was already there. Bruce ate too, though he stuck to the more healthy options he'd purchased. Clark ate everything else.

When the onslaught on his doorbell ended the table was completely covered and Bruce sat back with pride. “Let’s see how this goes.”

Clark started eating in earnest and once he started there was no stopping him. He cleared a whole pizza, then the order of spring rolls, noodles, and rice. Then he moved onto the pasta, the other pizzas, the fries. He made it his mission to finish the whole lot and as he went on he noticed Bruce's stares becoming more frequent and more concerned. “Clark…” He said as he reached for his fourth pizza. 

In between chews of the cheesy bread Clark spoke. “Hey, you wanted to see this.” He rubbed a splodge of tomatoes sauce off his lips. “Make sure to eat all you want and i’ll just eat the rest...”

Bruce didn't say anything but his widened eyes and grimace were enough. He grabbed another container of stir fried vegetables and started to eat it slowly, marveling at Clark who just seemed to kept going.

When it was finally done, Clark sat back and Bruce couldn’t help but gawp at his completely unchanged stomach. He got up and made his way around the table to him. “How…” He muttered as he approached and placed a hand on it, as if sight alone wasn’t enough confirmation, he pressed but felt no tightness in the muscle there. Bruce himself had to undo his zipper to accommodate for the added volume but Clark looked completely unfazed.

“Told you. I could eat a whole ‘nother table you know…” He said softly as Bruce kept rubbing. Even if he wasn’t cramping it was nice having Bruce pet him.

“I never would have-” Bruce frowned. “How long until you need to go?” 

Clark made a face. “Uh, probably a few days? I usually go every week.”

“Every week!?” Bruce stopped his rubbing to stare in complete shock at Clark, who in return gave a meek shrug.

“I mean I haven't gone since last week so I should go tomorrow, but I mean I can hold it for longer. It doesn't hurt or anything if I do.”

Bruce buried his head in his hand as he stared at the floor. Clark didn't know what to do with his own hands so he fiddled with the hem of his shirt, which he’d accidently gotten sauce on. “Why have you never told me this before?”

“I don't know Bruce… I just, didn't think it was important?” Bruce’s head shot up and his mouth contorted as he was about to respond. “Okay, I know it's important. I guess I just didn't think it was relevant. I mean, I didn't really think much about it. It would be like you telling me you breath everyday.”

Bruce stayed seated as Clark got up and started clearing away all of the containers. It was an awful lot of food, and even Clark was mildly impressed at how much he had eaten. Bruce didn't move as he cleaned and with each moment Clark started to feel that creeping unease that only came when Bruce was in one of these moods. “Bruce, you okay?” He said as he came and collected the pizza boxes. Bruce gave a nod, but it was a distant one, as if Clark had been talking about the weather and Bruce just so happened to agree. He didn't try to get anything else out of him, he’d learnt these moods passed quickest when Bruce was just left alone to think. 

He got ready for bed, and it was only when he lied in the sheets that he heard Bruce move around the living room.

\---

Bruce woke him up with a slap in the face.

It was unintentional as far as he Clark could sumice, as when he turned his body to look at Bruce he noticed his eyes were still closed and breathing steady. He got up, and went to make coffee.

That was all that was needed to rouse Bruce who slowly came plodding into view in one of Clark's dressing gowns. He reached for the cup held in Clark's hands, and Clark gave it to him. He turned around to make himself another cup. “How are you feeling today?” He asked, as he went to put sugar in his coffee.

“Fine. How are you?” He asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Good.” In fact he felt great. “I don’t know if i'll be able to go today Bruce. I don't think i've eaten enough.”

Bruce leant back on the cabinets in Clark’s kitchen and took two long sips of his coffee. “Right.” Was his response, and Clark felt his stomach wriggle at it. “Clark you've eaten enough to feed both our families combined. Could you just be honest with me instead of-”

 

“Whoa. Where is this coming from? Bruce, I ain’t lying to you.” He moved closer and reached for the cup Bruce was currently using to obstruct his face and moved it aside. “Later today I should be able to go, but i'm telling you. It ain’t going to be anything spectacular.”

Bruce nodded and finished the last remnants of his coffee before he refilled it and made his way out into the living room. They had work today so Clark stayed in the kitchen and made them some breakfast.

A bowl of fruit and a stack of pancakes later, he walked into the living room. He handed the bowl to Bruce, who began eating it slowly. 

He noticed him wiggling on his seat by the second pancake and Clark put his fork down. “Any reason you're not going to the bathroom?” He asked, as he watched Bruce's body shift on the couch.

“I’m not going until you do.” He said frankly as he lifted another berry to his lips and chewed. 

Clark let his mouth hang for just moment before he snapped it shut. “Bruce I don't think…” But he couldn't finish that thought.

Work was a lost cause on him when he sat down at his desk. He pulled out his stash of snacks and ate them at super speed as to not incur the questioning glances of Lois Lane. He started with biscuits and then ate the chips he had. If he was going to go for Bruce at the end of the day he needed a lot more food in his body. It didn’t help that throughout the day he got texts from Bruce who seemed to be faring a lot worse on his end. 

He could hear it, the sodden farts and the barely contained whimpers. He had to visit the bathroom twice to relieve his aching erection, only for his arousal to return in mere moments after sitting back at his desk. At lunch he couldn't take it anymore.

“Smallville when-” Lois came out of her office to the sight of Clark hurriedly throwing on his coat. “Well you're in a hurry.” She said folding her arms.

“There is a new sandwich place downtown, I wanted to go to but it takes awhile to get there and back and I don't want to run over my hour.” He was mildly impressed with how easily the lie came out, Bruce would have spent hours dissecting his tells but he knew Lois would be less adept. Well, he hoped she was.

She nodded. “Alright.” He breathed a sigh. “Pick me up something will you? I have to stay here and-”

“Sure Lois. Be back in an hour!” He donned his hat and was out the building in an instant. The nearby alley way had been fitted with one of Bruce's hidey holes which he used for storage. Clark had claimed it awhile ago, as it was perfect for him to store his suit in without it getting crinkled. He flew to Gotham and was in Wayne Enterprises by the time Lois had huffed and walked back into her office. 

Bruce was quite the picture when he came in, hunched over his desk face red and sweaty. When he noticed Clark he made a small noise of resentment. “Unless you're here to go to the bathroom I don't want to hear it.” 

Clark tutted, a fond smile on his lips. “Why do you want to hold it until I need to go?” He crouched down so he was eye level with him, though his eyes were scrunched up enough that he wouldn't be able to see him.

“You know the more I sit here the more I start to question myself.” He muttered. 

“So go baby, i'll be right here...” He reached forward, and brought his hand to caress the mass within Bruce. He didn't know if Bruce was aware of the fact his underwear were already brown from his farts but he didn't want to belabour the point by mentioning it. 

“No!” He swatted Clark’s hand away with his own. “If you can hold it for a week I can hold it for a day.” His lips were pulled into a frown that was more petulant than aggressive.

“Bruce…” He started but Bruce held up a finger and stopped him.

“I'm getting lunch what do you want.”

Clark made a face. “You’re eating? Bruce-” 

“Summer, could I please order the salad and the spare ribs for lunch? Thank you.” He fell back in his chair, his hair mussed and falling over his eyes. Clark reached forward to wipe it away.

“Bruce I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I know you ain’t gonna be able to hold it for much longer.” He tried to feel anything in his own stomach that would even suggest he needed to go, but there was nothing. “I’m gonna try and go now, so you could go?” He hadn’t mean it as a question but his voice raised as if it was one. 

 

Bruce folded his arms. “I’m fine Clark.” 

Clark wasn’t aware of what face he pulled but judging by Bruce’s own he could guess. “I’m fine!”

He hid under his desk when Summer entered with the food, Bruce munched on his salad dutifully whilst Clark dug into his ribs. He tried to focus on eating rather than the downright erotic show Bruce was giving him. Sweaty, mussed and farting. It was a wonder he even managed to get the food into his mouth. 

As his lunch hour dwindled away he got up and kissed Bruce on the head. “I gotta go pick up Lois’s lunch then go to work. Are you going to be okay?” 

His underwear was verging on more shit than fabric at this point but Clark still didn't make a comment, he didn't have to. Each time Bruce moved a slight squelch could be heard from his crotch and he knew Bruce would be able to feel it. “I’ll be fine. Pick me up after work.” He turned back to his computer and started typing.

After he got back and handed the sandwich to Lois he had hoped he’d be able to tune Bruce out better. No such luck. As soon as he tuned back into Bruce’s heartbeat it was as if foghorn started in his mind, wet splatters and squelches were all he could hear and he tried turning on his radio but not even that helped. By his 4 bathroom visit Lois was by his desk. “You alright Smallville?” She had a look of concern on her face, but it was partially obscured under a layer of professionalism. 

“Yeah, i’m fine Lois, just-” He didn't voice it, but he held his hand to his stomach and gave her a look.

“Do you need any medicine? I have some if you-”

“Thanks Lois but i’m feeling better now. I’m just gonna get back to work.” She gave a small nod as she gave a quick look over his shoulder to his computer. Satisfied with the amount of work written she walked back to her office. He told himself no more bathroom breaks, but dear God Bruce…

It was constant. His eardrums were assaulted with a never ender battery of farts and squelches. When Bruce moved he could hear his shit filled underwear rubbing up against his cheeks and smothering his balls and asshole. When he farted, splatters of loose shit would join the already overfilled lump in his pants. The noise of it all, wet and sloppy, was a near constant sound in his mind. 

At one point he heard shuffling and he wondered what it was so he focused his attention solely on that. He heard the shift of a chair, the unbuckling of pants, was he?

Bruce panted and there was a noise of something shifting in his ass but he wasn't shitting, Clark would have known if he was. After the noises had stopped he messaged Bruce. What he got back answered his questions. 

‘I put a plug in.’

Clark wanted to message back, ‘lil late for that don't you think?’ but he didn’t because he knew even in this state Bruce would be able to hunt him down and shove Kryptonite in his face. Instead he listened as Bruce bared down on the plug inside him letting squeaky little farts out when he did. The shit didnt leave him when he pushed so he assumed Bruce was at least more comfortable.

He raced to the Bruce once work was finished. He didn’t even wait outside, opting to instead park the car around the corner and use super speed to race up to his office. Bruce was just getting up when he noticed him. “Why aren't you outside?” Bruce went for his coat, and when he moved past Clark noticed the dark stain on his ass. 

“Uh Bruce, you ain’t gonna be able to go out like that.” When Bruce turned, he noticed the direction of Clark’s stare and tried to look their himself but human spines were not built for that kind of position.

“Is it bad?” He asked, still not quite seeing it.

“Well, I mean, not terrible but still…”He moved closer and places his hand on the stain. It was warm and wet to the touch and he shuddered. “Can I see?” He asked, leaning in close to nibble Bruce's ear.

His pants were unbuckled and soon they were pooled around his ankles. When he moved backwards, he saw just how bad Bruce's underwear were. What were once white and pristine were now brown and dribbling. He bent down to look at the discolored articles as well as feel the soft squelching matter there. He eased them down and saw the pink plug wedged between his brown covered ass cheeks, he wanted to lean forward and-

He was so hard.

“Bruce… I know you need to go so-” 

“I've told you Clark.” He reached down and pulled his underwear back up. “Not until you do.” 

His erection strained against his pants. Words failed him. Bruce moved away from where he sat crouched on the floor and opened a near by drawer, pulling out a pair of underwear as well as dress pants from within. Clark saw the logic, the times they had done this warranted Bruce's caution for packing spare pants and underwear wherever they went. He didn't pull off the sodden pair though, opting to pull the clean ones over the top of them. He then wrapped his old pants and put them in a plastic bag before pulling on the new ones. 

“I’ll meet you down by the car.” Clark nodded dumbly speeding past him out of the door and to the car waiting for Bruce to make his way down. His cock ached and he wondered if he could jerk himself before Bruce got down here.

He spent too much time in indecision and before he knew it Bruce was in the seat next to him. He started driving and watched Bruce fidget. “Fuck…” He muttered, as he pushed out a fart. Clark could hear the shit squeezing it’s way past the plug.

“That’s it-” He took a right where he was meant to take a left and drove down the road. He saw Bruce look around at the buildings before turning to him frowning.

“Clark. This is not-” 

“I know this isn't the way home, but i’m gonna shit so you can and then I can fuck you.” He burst out in a rush as he drove Bruce vaguely in the direction of one of his safehouse, he roughly knew the locations of them, but Gotham’s geography always seemed to be changing.

When he got to it, a small flat in south Gotham he jumped out and waited for Bruce on the curb to do the same. It was like watching a pregnant woman, the way Bruce slumped and supported his stomach as he stood and waddled over to the door way. Clark raced ahead, grabbing the keys from Bruce's fingers, and opening the door. He did a quick stock check of the place. It was barely furnished, but Clark knew what he was looking for. By the time Bruce walked in he was stood in the living room, a waste bin in his hands. 

“Sit down.” He said, gesturing to the couch. 

He obeyed, though it was in a haze of suspicion. Clark moved the coffee table out of the way and brought the bin just in front of Bruce, he didn’t miss how Bruce's gaze filled with longing as he looked at it. Clark pulled down his pants and perched himself over the bin, facing away from Bruce and leaning forward over himself to give Bruce a better view. 

He felt something in his ass, but it was barely anything. If his senses weren't heightened he doubted he would have felt anything at all. He pushed, and felt it move within him. 

It again didn't help that Bruce was watching him do this, his eyes directly on his wrinkled pucker. He wanted to reach for his dick, but he knew Bruce would stop him from doing so. At least if he didn't touch it it wouldn't be made worse. 

Bruce squirmed in envy behind him as he watched Clark’s asshole began to open. When his anus parted and let out the marble sized piece, he didn’t hear Bruce's reaction. Clark immediately got up and peered into the bin, and when he looked to Bruce he saw his response. His lips bobbed ever so slightly, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Is that-” He shook his head in disbelief. “That’s it?” 

Clark tilted his head to the side. “I told you…” He said timidly. 

“I don't-” But he didn’t finish his sentence and instead clenched his stomach in his hands. “God, Clark, I don't care any more I have to-” He tried to pull down his pants, but his hands were shaking too much. He pushed hard and Clark saw the plug slip. 

He moved forward, undoing the belt buckle Bruce was struggling with and ripping the material down. He moved Bruce away from the couch and took a seat on it himself, his face the perfect height for his ass. He pulled down the now slightly ruined pair of underwear to reveal the completely ruined pair. He pulled the material down and removed the plug fully. “Hold it in Bruce.” He said, and he watched as that brown hole, tensed and shivered as Clark eased the underwear back up. “Sit on my thigh.” 

He did, bringing his dirty underwear to rub against Clark’s leg. “Push a lil out…” He said as he pulled Bruce close, rubbing his hands along his back. It that instant all of Bruce seemed to uncoil as the muscles on his back loosened and the ones in his ass gave up and in mere moments Clark felt a wet warmth enveloping his thigh. He rubbed his hand along his cock. “Fuck… Ride my thigh.” Bruce nodded and wrapped his arms around Clark's neck. 

“Clark I can’t-” The warmth spread and Clark brought his hand to rest it on the growing mound. He rubbed it with his hand, feeling it mold and shift underneath it. Bruce stayed still as he pushed, and Clark sat back and watched him. He was beautiful. His pressed together lips, and eyes drawn closed in concentration. It was mesmerizing, and Clark brought his other hand to rub against Bruce's own erection.

Shit spilled over the edge of his underwear, falling to the floor with a loud splat. As the moments ticked on the spats became more frequent, and he heard Bruce whine above him. “It’s going everywhere.” He said as he turned his flushed face to look at the carpet, he was glistening with sweat and Clark just wanted to lick him all over. 

“Believe me when I say it's gonna get worse.” He lapped at his neck, which was starting to pool with sweat. More wet farts made there way through Bruce's shit logged underwear, and with every shift Clark felt it against his thigh. “You think you could hold it and get on the couch?” Bruce gave a short grunt, and crawled past Clark onto the open seat next to him. 

“Hot damn Bruce…” He brought his hand to rub against his underwear. “I would have never believed you if you’d said these were white this morning.” He pushed his fingers in and watched the way the fabric and shit gave way to them, as if it were playdoh. He pressed his finger in further, hunting down the source of all of it.

He found it when his finger met some resistance and Bruce pressed himself into the couch underneath, unashamedly bucking his hips against it. He brought his fingers to the edge of the pair and started pulling them down. He began to see just how covered the area was as he moved the pair downward. The shit began to spread across Bruce's thighs and calves as he eased the pair off. There was a sizeable mound of it in the crotch and Clark bit his lip as he looked at it. 

Bruce turned his body, his erection poking up from him as he did. He was making the couch dirty, but as Clark realised with that thought, the couch already was dirty. He threw the soiled underwear into the bin and drew his attention back to Bruce. His eyes catching the window in the room. It was late in the afternoon and the window looked out to an empty street. As he focused his stare at the walls enough to see through them he saw that the street was in fact deserted at that moment. Clark looked back at Bruce and grinned. 

He couldn't tell what Bruce was thinking underneath that steely mask he called a face, but when Clark picked him up and maneuvered him so that he was facing away from him, his legs held open wide by his arms he got the idea. “Clark what are you-”

He approached the window and with each step he felt Bruce try to wiggle out of his arms. “Clark, stop. Someone could see, what about the houses? Clark!” He would answered each of Bruce's concerns with a quiet voice, saying that no one was there and the street was deserted but Bruce was having none of it. 

Of course, eventually Bruce realised that trying to out muscle your alien boyfriend was a lost cause so he sat back with a frown using his hands to cover his modesty. Clark nibbled at his ear as he held him. “Come on baby, let go…”

“No. Someone could see. Put me down.” 

“Doesn't it turn you on the idea of being caught?” Clark breathed out, smirking when he felt Bruce shiver. 

“Yes, no… I don’t-” 

“Bruce, trust me. No one is out there, I would be able to see them and I can’t, everyone who is in their houses is not near a window. If that changes i'll move you.” He pressed his face into his shoulder. “Though for the sake of my arousal I’m gonna convince myself that you're being oggled by every single person in those buildings…”

Bruce tenses at that but when Clark took a peek from his shoulder he saw the hands which were once covering Bruce's cock now touching it in slow even strokes. “Just imagine their faces. All of them watching the famous Bruce Wayne shitting to his heart's content.” Clark wished he had a hand free to touch his own erection. “You could always hold it, but you'd need to go eventually wouldn't you? I bet your poor little asshole would just give up on you… and you'd just let go cause you couldn’t help it.”

A splat hit his feet. He heard Bruce's breath hitch in his throat as the movements on his cock became erratic. “Look at that… Can’t even hold it for more that a few minutes. I should plug you up and make you clean the mess you've made. Feed you until your filled with shit. Until you beg me to take it out so you can go.” Another splat joined the first and this time it was larger, touching Clarks feet as it spread, He dropped Bruce to the floor and with the grace of Batman he steadied himself on the window. Clark grabbed his hips and when his asshole opened again he shoved his cock inside. 

He was going to have to buy Bruce dinner for going in unprepared but he couldn't fathom leaving Bruce even to dash to the bathroom and get the lube there. Bruce tensed around him as he pressed in and Clark pushed him further up against the window, until his dick pressed against the cool glass. He thrusted into him hard and fast, unable to even focus long enough to take it slow. Bruce didn't seem to mind however, breathing hard enough against the glass panes for it fog over, his hands slipping with the condensation that form there.

“Beg Bruce. Or else i'm gonna plug you up for days and not let you go…” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust that left Bruce writing, a splattering of precum spreading its way over the window along with a few streaks of shit from Bruce’s thighs.

“Clark, please… Please, let me go. I'll be so good. Let me shit. I need to- I need-” Bruce was incoherent and Clark brought his hand to his trapped cock and used his fingers to rub against it, giving him more warmth and friction than he was getting from the window. 

He felt when Bruce came. His whole body seeming to clamp down around him. Every muscle seemingly electrified for an instant. His own body responded to the feel and he came with a shout into Bruce's abused hole, panting against his neck as his thrusts slowed down. 

When he pulled away, he did it to catch Bruce off guard and he wasn't disappointed as he watched those thoroughly abused muscles give up on him. Bruce's legs seemed to give out as he slid down onto his knees, his perfect ass hanging just above the pile he'd already made. His asshole gave a few pathetic attempts at closing but the load in Bruce that had been begging to come out for so long prevented that from happening. 

He doubted Bruce felt any shame at that point as he sighed and let the pile grow underneath him, not caring how his cheeks were touching it. Clark love the sound of it, the shit from Bruce's ass meeting the load already on the floor. They splat against one another with a few farts squeaking their way out past the pile.

When Bruce was done he attempted to stand but he fell right back against the pile, he turned to face Clark and stare him down until he got the message and helped him up. He swayed where he stood and nodded his head when Clark asked if he was okay. “I’m fine, just tired.” He fell onto the couch and Clark was left to see the state the room was in.

The coach, window and floor were covered in shit. It was on his feet, his legs and Bruce, well. Bruce looked like he was wearing a rather fetching pair of brown pants.

“We should clean up.”

Bruce snorted. “You think?” 

“I don’t know what we're gonna do about the carpet, or the sofa…” He eyed the stains and chanced a look at Bruce who just shrugged.

“If worse comes to worst I’ll replace it. We’ll try cleaning it first though and we'll go from there.”

“We?”

“Let me rephrase. You'll try cleaning it whilst I take a shower and then fall into bed.” He got up and made his way out the room. “Oh and call Alfred. Tell him you're buying me dinner tonight.”

Clark sighed and began his hunt for a rag and bucket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed, I'll try and get the next chapter out soonish but i make no promises as i am a lazy sausage. Also I have a blog set up at [Trashcan McGee](http://trashcan-mcgee.tumblr.com/) .Its pretty much just porn at the moment, but if you guys want to talk or ask me anything there is where to do it. Catch you later my lovelies! :D


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